AMOS DECIDES
Apparently Elmer was ready to take the others into his confidence,
for he immediately began to explain what he had done.
“You remember that I said I’d put the knife back about where I found
it,” he told them; “which was close to that hole in the wall used
for air as a sort of window, alongside the chimney.”
“Yes, I saw that you had stuck its pointed blade in the log; noticed
that between yawns when I was getting ready to turn in,” admitted
Perk.
“Well, it was gone this morning,” asserted the other, triumphantly.
“Yes,” objected Wee Willie instantly—they always said the tall chum
would make a good lawyer, he was so ready with his objections—“but
how do you know the tramp came back again and took it?”
“Who else would?” asked the puzzled Perk.
“Why, perhaps Amos got to thinking about it, not being able to
sleep, and for some good reason chose to lay hold of the old thing,”
explained Wee Willie blandly.
“Listen,” continued Elmer, with that quiet smile of his which the
others knew so well spoke of assurance, “I considered that point
myself, and fortunately there was a way open to prove my case. I’d
smoothed out most of those tracks around the cabin, but when I came
out to take a look, there they were again, showing the hobo had once
more shown up.”
“Great work!” grunted the skeptical Wee Willie, now convinced beyond
the shadow of a doubt.
“Better still,” added Elmer, intent on rubbing it in while about the
job, “the marks led straight to that little window. You remember
it’s got a sort of shutter secured with a hasp inside; though air
can come in because of the slits between the slats. Now I purposely
pried an end of one slat loose.”
“What for, Elmer?” queried the wondering but admiring Perk.
“So any one who felt like it could thrust an arm through the gap,
and feel around inside,” Elmer told him.
“Jingo! what a bully scheme!” exclaimed Perk, grinning broadly; “for
of course the knife was within reach from the opening. Now I can see
why you feel so dead sure the persistent old tramp got his knife at
last. Say, it _does_ pay to keep everlastingly at it, eh?”
“But why go to all that trouble just to please a Wandering George?”
exploded Wee Willie. “For one, I’d have been glad to keep that queer
contraption just as a curiosity, and so as to remember some of the
things that have happened to us up here at Log Cabin Bend.”
“Just what I didn’t want to have happen,” Elmer told him, sternly.
“I knew that as long as that thing was around, every time it bobbed
up poor Amos was bound to have a bad inning. Now it’s gone, he may
forget more or less about what it brought up in his mind.”
“Gee! what a mixup we’ve struck, all around,” muttered the tall
chum, rubbing his pointed chin after a habit he had when reflecting;
and then suddenly brightening up, he continued: “but we mustn’t let
such little things spoil our camping trip. Amos will get over it
after a bit. We must all try to keep him interested in things—oh!
what about that camera-trap business you two laid out to carry
through last night?”
“Why to be sure,” Perk chimed in, “there’s that cunning Mr. Mink who
lost a good supper last night just because you forgot. And I went
and laid a nice fish-head aside for him.”
“You’re wrong there, Perk,” Elmer assured him, quietly. “It wasn’t
forgetfulness on my part; but Amos had gone to his blanket with a
sick headache, and I just couldn’t find the heart to disturb him.
The trap game will keep just as well for to-night. In fact, if it
should happen to be cloudy all the better, because it is on black
nights such things can be made a success. You see the camera must be
left with the lens exposed, so that when the flashlight is fired the
exposure will be complete.”
“Then how about daylight coming on, and finding it in that way, to
spoil the exposed plate or film?” queried Perk.
“Oh! the photographer crank has to keep that in mind,” explained
Elmer. “I understand experts in this line, who spend all their time
and a heap of money in the bargain going to strange sections of the
earth, just to get such pictures for their collection, have devised
some sort of a clever arrangement whereby the pull at the cord by
the wild animal releases the shutter of the camera, which closes
again after a certain length of time, protecting the exposed film
against any light that may come along, such as the rising sun.”
Just then the object of their conversation appeared, coming from the
cabin. Amos looked haggard and worn. Evidently he had passed a bad
night, and his three chums felt greatly concerned over it.
Still, as they had agreed to act quite natural, they tried not to
let him see what lay deep down in their hearts. Perk called out to
him cheerily, to ask some natural question, and Wee Willie followed
it up by saying:
“We were just asking Elmer about that mink you saw yesterday, Amos;
and he told us you’d certainly lay for him to-night. I never got
close to a shy mink, and hardly know what one looks like; so I sure
hope you do strike off a good picture of his Royal Highness. I give
him that title, you see, because his fine pelt has soared to what
dealers call ‘abnormal prices’ in the fur market.”
“Yes,” Amos agreed, falling into Wee Willie’s pit, and showing
something of interest, “all furs reached stiff prices during the
World War. You see, so many who used to spend their winters trapping
fur-bearing animals, in America, Russia, and other countries, were
called to the colors, so the fur harvest dwindled terribly.”
“They say it’s an ill wind that blows nobody good,” chirped Perk;
“and what was hard on high-born ladies, and men who must have their
fur-lined overcoats, was a big boon to the poor little hunted
four-footed creatures who have to exercise all their intuitions so
as to save their own coats.”
“Why,” Wee Willie broke in, “right close by up in Muskrat Swamp
around the headwaters of our Beaverkill River they say the little
beasts never were one-half so plenty as this summer. I warrant you
there’ll be many a dollar picked up there next winter, when some
fellows I know start in trapping them.”
“Muskrat Swamp,” mused Perk, reflectively, “do you know I’ve never
had even a peep into that queer place, and it lying not much over
twenty miles away from Chester in the bargain. Some day I hope our
crowd goes up there to camp, and prowl around. I’d give a heap to
see what a real swamp looks like.”
“Not a bad idea, Perk!” called out Elmer, who had heard what was
being said, though up to then for reasons of his own he had not
chosen to break into the conversation, “and we’ll consider it later
on. I’d like to explore that place myself, though I reckon we ought
to have a boat of some kind to do the thing properly.”
Perhaps all of them would have been considerably astonished could
they have lifted the curtain of the immediate future, and discovered
how soon just such a glorious opportunity was fated to crop up, and
beckon them.
Breakfast having been duly dispatched they set about the tasks of
the day. The mess of fish had tasted so fine on the preceding night
that Perk found little trouble about enlisting the services of Wee
Willie in an expedition looking to a second installment. They had
dug some angle worms, and soon departed for the nearby river.
“Don’t expect us back until near noon,” Perk called out, joyously.
“Usually the fish stop biting along toward midday, but if we have a
mess we’ll show up in time for lunch.”
“Don’t bother your head about that meal,” Elmer told him, “for it’s
only right some one should spell you. We don’t believe in running a
willing horse to death.”
“That’s white of you, Elmer,” Perk sent back over his shoulder, as
he trotted along by the side of the striding Wee Willie, taking two
steps to one for the long-legged chum.
Amos hung around the camp.
He pretended to be working with his camera, but Elmer noticed him
casting nervous glances in his direction from time to time. From
this he wisely concluded that Amos had something on his mind, and
was waiting until he could screw his courage up to the deciding
point.
Knowing that it was the best thing to do Elmer simply went about his
duties, whistling softly to himself, and paying no particular heed
to Amos. If the other finally made up his mind to confide in him he
felt sure no act on his part was likely to hasten things along.
Doubtless the fact of the others being off for the morning had
something to do with the decision of Amos; since it gave him an
opportunity to talk with his best chum undisturbed.
An hour and more had gone. Still Amos sat there on the log. His
camera lay beside him, and the boy was bending forward, resting his
head upon his hand, his elbow against an adjacent tree.
Somehow his dejected attitude stirred Elmer to the depths and caused
him to change his mind. He felt that he must really make some move
which the other could interpret as an expression of sympathy. As
Elmer told himself: “If the mountain won’t come to Mahomet, then
Mahomet must go to the mountain,” which would be the same thing in
the end. He walked over to where Amos sat.
If the other heard his footfalls he gave no evidence of the fact
save perhaps a twitching of his free hand which lay on his knee.
Elmer was approaching from the rear. He hardly knew what he meant to
do except to come in personal contact with his chum. In times of
trouble the touch of a friendly hand may mean everything to the one
in mental distress, bringing fresh hope, and a renewal of the
courage necessary to grapple with difficulties.
So, reaching the other, Elmer put his hand on his drooping shoulder.
“Amos, can I help you in any way, old fellow?”
The words were boylike, but sincere, as though they welled straight
up from the heart of the speaker. They acted like a spur upon the
quivering lad, who sprang to his feet wildly, and clutching Elmer’s
ready hand squeezed it convulsively as he exclaimed in a voice
broken with emotion:
“Oh! Elmer I just _can’t_ stand it alone any longer! I didn’t want
to tell a living soul, but it’s too much for me, yes, far too much!
And I’ve made up my mind to explain what all this mystery means
about that queer knife. Elmer, it once belonged to—_my own father_,
who’s been away for seven years, and all of us have believed him to
be dead.”